A Walking Contradiction
by candy77266
Summary: Rouge finds love and it hurts.
1. Confession

Rouge contemplates the right words to tell her dark friend while he stands feet away from her, emitting his usual intensive energy.

"Shadow, I need to tell you something" Shy of his face, she averts her charming eyes from him as an attempt to not be scrutinize by his own. She paces, strangely, back and forth, losing her emotions with each metal click of her heels against the floor.

He waits patiently for her to recollect her sentences. His eyes telling her, urging her, to confront him, but she doesn't have the courage to speak. For once in her life, the bat feels speechless, breathless, and hopeless.

"Rouge." A smooth voice interrupts her desperation. "Are you ok?" She shivers, but she is not cold.

"I'm fine... I don't know whats making you think different." She lies.

He steps closer to her.

"No.. I'm fine Shadow." She giggles, it sounds wrong. She steps back, creating the desire distance she wants. She turns her body away from him, perhaps to run away like her blue friend.

"Your crying."

She stops. "What?"

His steps, approaching closer to her.

She touches her cheeks, it feels wet, tears fill her face, mist covers her eyes, and the wetness of it all ruins her makeup.

He grasps her shoulder, momentarily, latching on to something abstract and dark. He finds her and forces her to face him, his hand now on her arm.

She whispers loud enough so only he could hear. "I'm scared." She confesses childishly. Her eyes, now glass-like, met his deep ruby ones.

"Of what?"

She says nothing, so he reads her eyes, they are like mirrors when she is like this.

"Me..? of me?"

"I .." They both speak and stop to let the other one talk.

He laughs, charmingly.

She bites her lips, impatiently, it hurts her.

He smiles. "Is this how you confess your liking towards me?"


	2. Wants

They both sit on a comfortable couch while Shadow gazes directly ahead. One of his hand settles on the arm of the sofa, the other equally relaxes on his lap. Focus yet,somehow, idle, Shadow stares at the flashing television screen. Rouge seats herself in a defensive position, arms cross, head low, her leg, weirdly, restlessly bouncing up and down.

She thinks to run again. To run somewhere she remembers is easy, knowing, and shallow. She shuts her eyes. She ponders the thought just hard enough so she can numb out sorrow that is within her.

"Rouge," One of her ears slant to side to his voice, her eyes remain close.

"If your plan is to annoy me, you are doing a poor job of it." He eyes glare at his awkward companion. Her leg bounces profusely, making a terrible tapping sound against the floor.

"Can you stop your leg." A strong order, not a question.

"No.."

"Why not?"

"It is how I cope with myself." The tapping continues.

He leans in and reaches for her. With an index finger and a thumb, he presses down on her thigh, stopping her anxious behavior.

Appall by this, she flares at him. He wants her to be calm, more importantly, quiet and so he keeps his hand there. Her lower limb twitches under the pressure.

"What is going on in your head?"

"A little bit of everything."

"What is making you anxious?"

"I told you, a bit of everything."

"Everything.. really." He scowls deeply, rolling his eyes. He strengthens his gripe, not to inflict pain, but to restrain. Her anxiety completely halts.

"It is alright, Rouge... if you have feelings for me." He releases his control, and looks to her. She, now, remains quiet and still, and softens her gaze when she finds displeasure in his eyes. He turns away.

"You've been acting strange since your confession." He positions himself on his side of the couch and begins stretching his wrists. His hands get tense once in a while.

"You've been stand offish, and pleasantly quiet."

"I just have nothing to say."

"You've even stop most of your advances and flirtatious behavior."

"You sound like you miss them."

"Its.. an adjustment." On his hands, he uses his thumb to stretch down his fingers. "Even though life has been easier for me with you like this, I can't say that I am happier."

Her plump lips slightly open. She watches him; she almost looks innocence.

"I do not like to see you suffer."

"Shadow, my feelings can change, I just need time to refocus."

"The way you look at me." He is certain.

"That isn't gonna change by you finding some other toy, Rouge."

He finally looks to her.

"If I.. were to agree to explore your feelings.. as your partner. Would this help you?" His voice shakes, surprising them both.

"Help me?"

"Yes. Help you feel less hurt."

She honestly considers, but thinks. "Do you even like me the same way?"

"I could learn to love you." He admits.

"Oh god, Shadow." She violently shakes her head. "Talk about pitying a person. Thanks handsome, but you forcing yourself into a relationship isn't gonna make me feel better. It is just gonna make me bitter."

A serious tone. "I made this decision on my own."

She understands the meaning of this answer.

"Uh." Her pain is sharp.

"Again, I could learn to love you."

"..."

"Isn't this what you want?"

"I don't even know why I am in pain." An outburst.

"Everything brings me discomfort. My life, right now, feels unnatural to me." She places a finger on a temple and rubs the area, closing her eyes. She numbs the feeling. He studies her as she works, unaware of what she's really doing, he settles upon observing the superficial features of his friend. Despite her state of despair altering her temperament, there still a level of elegance and strength to her. She begins to lightly touch her neck, trying to feel her body, an attempt to feel anything other than how she is now, the touch gradually travels to her chest. She sighs.

He unknowingly smiles, shaking his head. His eyes lay over the television.

"Trying to feel good?"

"Yeah..."

A bit of warmth fills the air.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Come over here."

"What?"

"You heard me, get over here. I want you next to me."

"I don't want to be next to you." He watches his show.

"What? Just a second ago you just asked for a relationship with me, and now you can't stand me?!"

"You rejected me, so now I want little to do with you."

She huffs, yet wants the hedgehog.

"I'm sure if I refocus my emotions, my feelings will change." He mocks her, it is one of his favorite things to do but rarely does.

"Alright, alright, I'll go out with you." A gleeful outburst. She can be quite strange and annoying sometimes. She moves to him. "I request cuddling at the top of each hour, if this is to work out."

"Hmm." He places a hand on his mouth, he thinks. "You are quite difficult. I'm tempted to retract my offer,"

She wants to feel better.

"But this will help you, I'm sure." She reaches for him and begins cradling his face with her hands. She directs his attention to look at her.

"Yeah, cause you're an open book." Whispering with careful eyes, she breathes in his warmth.

"I am." He speaks softly as he slowly pushes himself forward, his brow touches her's. His acts are not sensual, he thinks they are not, he merely wants her to feel better so maybe his proximity can help with that. His eyes close upon contact. He gives her what ever she needs.


	3. Stipulations

Near a cluttered shelf, she fumbles with a short, white, cylindrical candle, thinking to light said object.

"Sooo, kissing?" She puckers her lips.

"No." On her left, Shadow carefully sifts through the items on the shelf. He organizes the knickknacks while his significant-other-in-the-making investigates the proprietary of each item.

"Not even pecks on the cheek?" She firmly holds the candle, questioning when she brought it, she then wonders if she may have a spending problem in addition to her hoarding.

"..." He finds a lost glassware, but without thought, leaves it there for another day.

"What about licking? Can I lick you?" She moves the candle near her nose to whiff, hoping it is bitter like her. An in-distinctive leafy aroma invades her nasal. She forms a weird expression and deduces that she did not buy this strange smelly object.

"Rouge."

"Well, I need to know what I can do with you since you seem so off put by all sexual contact." She returns the candle to the shelf so it can never be used and rightfully collect dust.

"Only when you initiate it, actually."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"It's meaningless when you do it, and I simply don't enjoy entertaining valueless things." He finalizes his arrangement by shifting the ill scented candle in a more appropriate position. Her eyes dull a bit from his perfectionism.

"Psff, what meaningful contact have you even experience?" She teases yet curious.

He thinks. "I haven't had many outside of my memory of the Ark."

"But I don't need to have great sexual interactions to recognize how empty yours are." She is not offended.

She continues to draw out the boundaries. "So, is sex out of the question?"

Abruptly, he brisks away from the bat and heads to the kitchen.

"I'm asking these questions now!" She helplessly follows him. "You gotta give me a bone or something."

"None."

"What!?" She hurts, but this pain is not like before, more because, she might have to be celibate with this man.

"I feel like, I was able to do more with you as a friend." A pout.

"Hmph, it didn't matter."

"Maybe, it might be better that I remain that way." He steps slowly past a couple upper cabinets and stops at one that knowingly contains a variety of glassware.

"Perhaps."

Shadows delicately picks out two long stem wine glasses.

"Are cuddles off the table?" She watches as he now unfolds the door to the cabinet next to him. After some self-deliberation in selection, he decides on bitter wine.

"I don't mind your hugs. Those tend to come off very nice, actually." He openly admits.

"Yeah, I make sure to rub my chest against yours." She openly admits as well.

She giggles happily.

He quickly places one of the drink wares back.

"Hey! Was that mine? You jerk!"

"You are quite rambunctious now. I don' think you need any." He unravels the flimsy metal wrapping around the nozzle of the bottle. He is quick to open it.

"Yet, wine calms my impulses." She pulls back out the glass.

"I highly doubt it does." He finishes serving himself and begins pouring her portion.

* * *

"So, nothing. I can't do nothing to ya." She refills her glass for the umpteenth time, some would think she is an alcoholic. The living room, in which the two reside, has one wall dedicated to a large window. She glances at the window and sees the city's skyscrapers topped with white. Snow fills the streets due to a recent blizzard that disrupted its way through the metropolis. The mute gray clouds appeal to her, she stumbles in the direction of the glass wall.

"Sit down, bat." He is aggressive when agitated.

"But it is so nice out there, Shadow." She pleas, she is not in the right mind. Though she sparsely hints at innuendos now, her attention is overly concerned about the window.

"There's nothing out there but freezing temperatures and slush." He convinces her.

"Ugh, slusshhhh." She does not like the word. She says it again with disdain as she bares her teeth. She places her poised, warm hand on the bone-chilling glass. Naturally, touching a piercing wintry window would brush a sound person away, but she continues pressing.

Fluttering her sad eyes close, her head is now sinking onto the glass, the cold glass steals something from her, she does not know what, but the thought of the window being here saddens her.

"What are you doing?!" His voice raises formidable, but he is not yelling. He never yells.

An indistinguishable murmur, then nothing.

It is pleasantly quiet.

He walks, she can't tell if he is leaving her or not. Seconds are forever, innate senses are desensitized, emotions, now, unable to be discerned, herself, who she is, freezing, solidifying, crystallizing to finish within nothingness.

Her wine falls from her grasp. She waits for the sound of shattering glass.

It remains pleasantly quiet.

He catches it, spilling none.

She blinks back warmth in her eyes, to then next, expose a weak smile to him.


	4. Reasons

On a sidewalk, Rouge saunters calmly close to her dark lover. To the left and right of the pavement, fields of newly grown pale patches of grass sway slightly with the lukewarm breeze. Today's forecaster informs them spring maybe coming early this year, so the winter weather is not harsh today. The steps beside her ease their pace to a leisurely fashion, she notices.

At the moment, he peacefully stands, overlooking the seedlings peering their heads throughout the soil.

"Is something wrong?"

"Hmmm." He closes his eyes, taking in the life of the land, rebirth, the word surfaces from his subconscious.

"Not really."

She anxiously waits for him while humming to herself for entertainment .

He blinks his eyes, and with no authoritative permission, sharply trots on the pre-spring grass.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Almost yelling, his swift and acute movements shock her.

"But.. aren't we suppose to go to our date?" She sounds weirdly worried.

"We are, " This area is familiar to him. "It is a bit longer, but more to admire." He unknowingly assures her.

She gazes at dirt, noticing the mud mixing with the grass.

"I told you it was going to be casual." A irritate voice.

"Yes, and I told you, I don't do casual." She unfolds her wings and, with dignity, ascends in the air. "It's either sexy or beautiful." She wears a semi-formal dress; the short blue fabric holds nicely to her shape, in addition, matches her lips. He does not fabricate an expression, but he does appreciate her acute sense towards fashion, despite it not fitting his spontaneity, she looks beautiful. She floats behind as he guides them deeper in the natural world.

He glides;she flies.

The bare trees and scrawny forest critters scurry around them, greeting them, with rustles and sounds as the couple gracefully maneuvers pass.

The scarce forest produces a sorrow sight for her; rightfully, she puzzles why he would want to show her such a fruitless setting. Her gaze slowly but surely, rests back at her dark companion. Polish and determination the hedgehog exemplifies as he skates, fascination and now, fixation, overwhelms her as she contemplates why she sees him in this regard.

She rarely questions her attractions yet, he consumes her mind to an infectious point.

At a weird time, Knuckles comes into her conscious. Her thoughts rest on his firm muscular upper body and the disorganized placement of each long quill. His rough and unkempt appearance bodies a strong masculine spirit, she deems appealing, yet his naivety, she learns, is his most pleasurable trait. She wonders to visit him, perhaps soon, a good time has passed since she last tried to steal the master emerald and he certainly wouldn't mind her checking up on the jewel.

She sighs, ready to change her thoughts, she now searches the trees again for answers to her current troubles, perhaps nature could soothe the bat's sadness, anxiety, and odd state.

Her mind slows when she briefly glances back over her love for another uncountable time; suddenly, she now wonders, what people truly see when they view her.

What is it that they really see? It resonates louder.

She completely drops her ears, an attempt to block out the sounds in her head.

Her skin tingles from a freezing sensation originating from her back, not a painful sensation, for once, but indeed, it is cold and unwelcoming.

She releases a breath of air again, tired of flying and pondering, mentally and, strangely, physically, exhaust from life now, she hovers a bit closer to the ground. She wants little to do with her mind, so dulls it out, and, unaware, pushes into the black figure in-front of her.

"Ah.."

He turns. "Is this boring you?" He accuses her of absent-mindedness .

"No, I just have something on my mind."

"That's been a common excuse you've been using lately." Alarmingly rude.

"Because it's true each time I say it."

The trees stir their leafless branches.

She misinterprets his silence as another accusation, irritation emits from her voice.

"What? Do you think I am lying? I'm trying to enjoy myself, in the middle of nothing, doing nothing, going somewhere." She flusters herself from her last statement. "I have no clue where we are even going...following you around like some dog." Her thoughts are harsh. "I'm a mess and this is ambiguous, and cold, while for some reason worrisome." She brings her hands to her arms, providing some warmth back to her. "Unbearable and falling apart." She is illogical.

"Is it?" He reaches for a flat shaped stone.

"Yeah." He examines the pebble and walks to the water. Astonishment swells her eyes, she realizes they are at a partially frozen lake. She shamelessly stares down to the mud and after a brisk self-deprecating conversation with herself, now, on her feet, she meets him.

He skips the rock once she arrives at the shore.

Her eyes widen more from this uncharacteristic trait he demonstrates.

"You can skip rocks?"

"Hmph."

She laughs with charm. "Who taught you? Was it Sonic?"

"The blue menace doesn't have the patience to learn such a trick."

"Oh,"

He pauses.

"I actually observes this from Tails."

"Really?"

"That's pretty neat." She reaches for a stone.

"Hmm.."

"What?"

"I'm watching." He smiles.

"You don't think I can do it?"

"Well, of course not."

"So humble." She skips the rock.

"Ahh." He judges, his hand now on his waist.

"Well?"

"That was terrible."

They snicker in unison.

"Hmmmm." He observes the water gently flood over the rims of his shoes. "This is one of the few places, I enjoy. I spend a lot of time here." He tells her.

"Ooo." She turns in a circle, searching for life. "There's nothing here. Everything is pretty empty. Do you prefer emptiness?"

"I prefer tranquility." The water breaks off the ice into fragments. "Emptiness seems to be a word that is brought up in order for tranquility to exist. But there is peace here, it may not be in abundance, but it is enough, ethereal and changing."

The animals chirp in agreement.

"I, as well, like." He adjusts the tightness of his gloves. "Change. Well, the process of change."

She nonchalantly browses for another skipping stone. "Do you think you can change me? I'm pretty stubborn. Well, I don't think I am, but people tell me enough that it may have some truth." She innately locates a shiny rock and places the nice stone in her ample cleavage for safe keeping.

"Hmph, no."

"You are enough."

"Meaning?" With precision, she kicks a stone towards the lake, it skips perfectly on the water. She grins.

"How?" Overawe by this.

"I've watched you and made it my own." She impresses herself sometimes.

"So now you are stealing my hidden tricks." He dismisses his astonishment and glances away from her.

"Jewels aren't the only thing I steal." She places her hands behind her and delightfully advances to his side with a gleeful smirk. They begin walking, treading through the shallow waters, despite the icy drops landing on their legs, the winter water refreshes them.

She prompts again. "Enough, how?"

"I think you are good enough, so you don't need to be changed."

"Good? Is that how you see me?"

"Yes."

"Even when I fret and become erratic?"

"Yes."

"And when I get all aloof and insensitive because of life?"

"A bitter version of yourself I am more compatible with."

"Huh, really?"

"Yes, you are less fake when you are such, more purposeful." She listens to him.

"Even if my intentions are to harm?"

"At least you are honest when you do."

She moves a bit closer, enough for him to notice, but not enough to touch him.

Approving her actions, he gently smiles for her.


	5. Dates

Shadow ushers her to a brownish-red lounge chair. The plump furniture surrounds itself with cases of books while the small table in front holds a used cup of coffee. She slowly sets into the cushion, observing her surroundings. The small, quiet crowd holds conversations, only the bat could hear from a distance, excitement buzzes from their lips. Shadow steps towards a counter, ordering from what Rouge thinks is the head waitress, the woman is well acquainted with him.

With a pinky finger, Rouge draws a curvy elongated line onto the arm of the chair, the fabric is cheap, she deduces, since it tears easily. Her eyes lay over the bridges of nearby books, scrutinizing each one, she finds the rows exhibits a dark selection and leaves the chair to search.

"Anything in particular you are looking for?" An unrecognizable voice, she turns, it's a young cat, an employee.

"... Not really. Just seeing what you have."

He laughs and collects the used cup.

"That selection is pretty distasteful, well I mean, if you're into a lot of the gore, dark and creepy stuff of that nature, I can recommend better authors." He wipes the table with a clean sweep, it shines a bit from the moisture.

"No thanks, hun. I have it covered."

He ends with a overt, cordial response. "Haha, I understand. Well, let me know if you want any recommendations. Classy dress by the way." He flicks his tail, gesturing a goodbye and leaves to serve another.

_He seems friendly, s_he concludes sliding a book from the shelf. Flipping through the pages, she hears clicks of dishware she assumes from Shadow. He lays down a tea and a coffee with a pair of utensils for each.

"Already found something of interest?" His angular brow raises as he notices the object wrapped around silky laced hands.

He arranges the placement of drinks into a delicate display. "Maybe, if the title is a good indicate of the story, it should be a good read." Her meticulous fingers graze the aged cover, careful, like she found a new treasure.

He opens his palm towards her. "May I?" She hands him the novel.

A quick observation.

"I recommend something from an earlier author for the darker genres." He lays the book on a separate table, implying for her to get another.

Her lips part to speak.

"They have pretty great sandwiches here," He interrupts her, ripping a small tear in a sugar packet for his coffee. "You will like them." He is certain.

"Hmph, you seem pretty confident about my taste... I didn't know you were quite the bookworm."

He nods, pushing a beverage in her direction.

"Tea?"

"You don't need a stimulant." He now adds creamer to his coffee, he oddly craves dairy today. "I could care less for the books, but since I eat here quite often I've read through this selection."

She takes a hold of the spoon and the cup, "Controlling aren't we?"

"You tend to react better when I am," He sips. "But this is only temporary, until you feel yourself again."

"I feel fine now," She promptly crosses her legs in a casual manner, showing she is her elegant self while tasting the beverage.

"Is this blueberry?"

He places her book on her thigh.

* * *

"How is it?"

"Pretty distasteful."

"That's good."

"No, I mean it is a lackluster read."

He chuckles.

"Don't laugh at me." She turns the page.

"Stop reading it."

"I've already read this much, I might as well keep going."

"Stubborn aren't you."

"I don't think so."

He turns a page in his novel.

"But you've been told otherwise."

"Mhmm.."

She hazily reads the print of the page before soon losing interest to continue; her eyes sneak across the table, pausing on his firm expression. His perceptive devil irises identifying and dissecting metaphors, symbols and themes, thinking he looks divine, almost majestic, in how he poses with care and intensity. His legs cross in a way some would think is feminine, yet, sophistication, is the correct label, perhaps because his stern and stoic expression, even in its most effeminate state, elicits dominance to then instill cowardice in the weak willed.

"Done reading?" He speaks without eye contact.

"Reading something more interesting for the moment."

"Ah, what's the story?"

"About an imperfect woman and her temptations."

"Just a woman?" Now, he eyes her.

She thinks of many animalistic behaviors she could perform for him.

"And a man?"

"Yes, a man in a caged."

"Is he trapped?"

"No, he chooses to be there. The cage protects him."

"From the woman?"

"... perhaps."

He sighs, unable to concentrate anymore.

"You are talking strange, again."

Placing the novel to the side, she elevates from her seat and walks to him, bewitchment tints her eyes. Her charm causes paralysis, so his movements nervously remain static. Reading her, she appears slowly, calculatingly and enchanting to him. Perhaps this is her plan? To bait him over his walls, so he may show himself to her, to lastly, have her way with him. On his lap, his fists clasps firmly on his book.

Shutting his eyes, he feels her around him, expecting a sexual invasion.

She takes a chair next to him.

He makes an uncomfortable sound; she flicks her ear.

"Sorry." His body poise to pretend to still read, his mind desperately racing.

W_hy am I intimidated? I'm losing my focus._

"I don't understand." She hears him again.

He mumbles a conglomerate of indecipherable words into a wicked incantation.

He thinks he is crazy.

"Love, you are rambling," He peers open his eyes. "It's worrying me."

He closes his book, ending his facade.

"It worries me too."

She eases her brow. "You can be so strange, darling."

He leans into the cushion, remaining unbearably tense.

"Your strangeness could easily scare away people."

"Like I could care." He lies.

"So fragile."

"Hmph, projection."

"I hear you just as much as you watch me."

Frowning and growling cause he can, yet she continues "..and quite majestic, like a phoenix."

"A bird?"

"A rare bird." She kindly notes.

"Cycles of life and death, fierce incarnations to enlist limitless reincarnation."

Her dark mellifluous poetry intrigues him, perhaps she is more of the bookworm than him.

"To have such a purpose of always changing, to live on to forever, changing forever," smiling as she gustily speaks of his destiny. "It's truly an unhappy ending."

"Hmm."

"What do you think?"

"That you are depressing me."

"Oh?" She sighs with disappointment. "I'm sorry, reading always gets me thinking about dreary things."

"Is that what your story actually was about? Change?"

She nods.

"I figured I would read about something you like."

"Why?"

"Maybe to understand you better."

"Hmph, you already know so much about me."

He lands a precise finger on his lip.

"You know more about me than I know of you."

She slits her eyes towards him, anticipating a terrible question.

"What was your childhood like?"

...

Sounds of dishware fill the silence.

"Why?"

"What?"

"I don't know why you need to know that."

"You are getting defensive over my question."

"I have my right to be defensive."

He glares to pierce though her defenses, but meets a black hole, unclear if anything is on the other side.

"Your stubbornness is making you appear like a fool."

"So, let me be a fool."

He thinks she an idiot, "Not even a fool, an idiot."

"Yes, well I'm glad you got that off your chest. I'm an idiot then."

Dishware clicks again.

"Your past is important." He reminds her, though she never forgot.

She huffs, not budging.

"I would like to know more about you."

"Please stop."

"I.. I would like to know more about your past."


End file.
